


But at least I got you in my head

by lesbianreganlucas (actualbabe)



Category: New Girl
Genre: F/F, Happy pride month, they're my guilty pleasure ship, what can i say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 17:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15029783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualbabe/pseuds/lesbianreganlucas
Summary: Jess is... Jess. There’s not really any other word to describe her. She’s good at everything, fills in all the jagged holes that make Reagan so difficult to be around. Reagan isn’t even surprised that she falls for her in the span of fifteen minutes after the first time they meet.





	But at least I got you in my head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ofnopesandwhyatts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofnopesandwhyatts/gifts).



Reagan’s been with her fair share of girl-on-girl virgins. It’s a hazard of the lesbian game: pretty girls who want to feel daring for a night and do something ‘naughty’ and ‘wild’ like makeout with another girl. She doesn’t always mind, because it’s not like she can turn down the offer when a hot girl climbs into her lap at a party and begs her to kiss the bright pink lip gloss off of her. 

She might be chronically hopeless about expressing romantic feelings, but she knows how to pick up sexual cues off a girl, even if she’s ‘straight.’ Not to be too cocky, but Reagan knows her way around a bedroom (and shower) (and the backseat of a car). Sleeping with mostly-straight girls is an annoyance, with the way they don’t know what to do with a pussy, even though they should’ve had plenty of practice with their own. She’s tired of doing all the hard work, putting up with girls who learned how to eat pussy from male-fantasy-centered lesbian porn.

The real problem with Reagan is her personality, because people think she’s this frigid bitch just because she’s not good with the whole ‘feelings’ thing. She went to a gay bar once, stayed in the too-bright neon lights for 45 minutes and then called it quits when not a single girl even looked her way. Straight people think she’s a heartless spinster, lesbians think she’s a cold-hearted straight girl.

It’s exhausting.

\---

Jess is...  _ Jess. _ There’s not really any other word to describe her. She’s good at  _ everything _ , fills in all the jagged holes that make Reagan so difficult to be around. Jess is warm and sweet and caring and she bakes desserts and her presence lights up the entire fucking room and she’s not afraid to feel something for someone and then go out on a limb to tell them all about it. Reagan isn’t even surprised that she falls for her in the span of fifteen minutes after the first time they meet. But then, like the hopeless lesbian she is, she spends the whole day helping Jess chase after some cute guy, just for a chance to spend more time with her. 

Reagan’s absolutely captivated by her, by the way she’s so goddamn effervescent and could move mountains with the bat of her eye. Jess throws smiles around like they’re nothing, but when she looks at Reagan she swears it’s different, more genuine, a significant sparkle in her eye that makes Reagan’s breath get all caught up as her heart stutters in her chest. She feels like she’s back in junior high, tumbling head over heels for the prettiest girl in her class as she struggles to make heads or tails of the complicated tangle inside her heart.

They spend more and more time together, which is to say that Reagan finds any and every excuse to be around her, hanging around the loft like some lovesick puppy. The only one who seems to notice is Cece, and her discretion about it almost makes up for the botched attempt at scissoring they did all those years ago. Nick is completely oblivious, even going so far as to keep flirting with Reagan despite her clear disinterest.

And Reagan’s no idiot, she can see that there’s something going on between him and Jess, an unspoken thing slowly building up to the surface that’s sure to bubble over and leave Reagan hung out to dry, heartbroken over yet another unrequited crush on a straight girl. But for now she’ll settle for being Jess’ friend, pretending like their casual touches don’t mean anything to her, like she doesn’t spend countless hours imagining what it’d be like to have Jess the way she wanted. 

She even spends the night once, when Jess insists on an 80s rom-com marathon when she realizes that Reagan’s never seen  _ Pretty in Pink  _ or  _ Sixteen Candles _ or  _ Dirty Dancing.  _ Reagan doesn’t even like this kind of hetero bullshit, but there’s no denying that the girls are serving some high-fashion  _ looks _ , and Jess looks so pretty in the dim light on the tv screen. Her breath hitches during every dramatic moment, her lower teeth sink into her lip while her eyes flick over to Reagan to gauge her reaction. It’s taking every ounce of her self control not to reach out to her and press their lips together, to find out if Jess’ tastes as sweet as she imagines.

And then, when Jess realizes it’s nearly 3am, she insists that Reagan sleeps over. Reagan follows Jess into her bedroom and changes into a borrowed t-shirt and sweatpants, trying not to let her gaze linger on the reflection of Jess’ bare back in the mirror as she slips into some pastel-colored pajama set. She’s working on autopilot as she brushes her teeth with a spare toothbrush, her gaze drifting over to Jess at the other sink, her hair pulled back into a ponytail as she washes her face until it’s gleaming a pale pink, a shininess that matches the luminescence of her smile.

Jess snores in her sleep, a soft, barely-there rhythm of her breathing that sinks deep into Reagan’s bones as she lies on the other side of the mattress, so close that it would only take the slightest movement to trail her fingers over the soft skin of her cheek before brushing a loose curl Jess’ hair back behind her ear. Reagan feels like she’s drowning, getting sucked deeper and deeper into the tide as Jess coaxes her out to sea like a beautiful siren she’ll never be able to catch.

Reagan barely sleeps that night, and when she does manage to drift off she dreams of Jess curled up on top of her, smiling that bright grin of hers as she rocks her hips down into Reagan’s lap. She blinks awake to see Real Jess still lying on the other side of the bed, and Reagan lets her eyes fall shut again, because even is Jess isn’t interested, at least she can have her inside her own head.

\---

They have their little  _ Girls’ Night _ thing, and Reagan get drunk enough to suggest body shots, because apparently she’s a masochist who loves playing with fire. Jess’ lips are soft against the inside of Reagan’s wrist as she licks off the sprinkle of salt there before knocking back the shot glass of tequila. She pops the lime wedge into her mouth with a proud smile, and Reagan just stares at her, her mind still caught up in the aftershock of finally feeling Jess’ warm mouth on her bare skin.

“Your turn,” Jess says with a drunken giggle, and Reagan’s head goes blank.

She holds eye contact with Jess as she traces her tongue up the the path of salt on Jess’ wrist. The bite of the cheap tequila brings her back into reality, even if the gentle way Jess presses the second slice of lime against Reagan’s lips sends her right back into a dizzy spiral. Jess’ blue eyes are impossibly dark in the dim light of whatever dive bar they ended up in, and there’s a faint blush on her cheeks from a night of drinking. It makes Reagan’s head spin as she tries to remember every second of this moment so she can replay it over and over in her mind after Jess moves on to whatever nice guy is on her horizon.

Reagan shares a cab back to the loft, even though she doesn’t live there. But then again, she might as well chip into rent given how much time she spends at the place, desperately pining after Jess. She follows Jess into the elevator and then the apartment, and Jess must be pretty drunk, because she doesn’t even question the fact that Reagan hasn’t gone back home to her own place. 

Then she must slip into one of her fantasies, because Jess’ hand circles around her wrist as she leads Reagan into her room. But Jess’ hand has never felt so warm and solid in Reagan’s dreams, and her heart stops suddenly when she realizes that this is really happening. She’s actually standing in Jess’ bedroom, and Jess’ palms are actually pressed to her cheeks, and Jess’ lips are actually just a hair’s breadth away from her own.

“Can I?” Jess asks tentatively, looking directly into her eyes.

_ “Yes, _ ” Reagan breathes, shocked that she’s still somehow capable of words right now.

Jess kisses her and it knocks the wind out of Reagan’s lungs. Her eyes flutter shut as she reflexively wraps her arms around Jess’ waist while the other woman’s arms drape over her shoulders. The kiss is fucking perfect: everything Reagan had imagined it would be like and yet impossibly more. She chases the taste of cheap tequila as she tentatively slips her tongue against Jess’, and it’s... it’s...

It’s  _ Jess _ . 

Reagan coaxes Jess out of her cardigan and then dress, lies her out on top of her flowery comforter as she kisses her over and over. But then Jess rolls them over until she’s hovering above her, beautiful and perfect in her pale purple bra and neon yellow panties. 

“Let me take care of you,” Jess whispers in her ear, and it sends a shiver all down Reagan’s spine.

And she  _ does _ . Jess peels off the rest of their clothes and then sinks down towards the foot of the mattress to bury her face between Reagan’s legs. Jess' mouth is slick and wet against her, and Reagan didn’t think it would realistically be this  _ good _ . She thought that she’d have to guide Jess through it, put up with all the formerly-straight bullshit until she managed to achieve a half-orgasm.

But Jess apparently already knows exactly what she’s doing, because it’s not long before Reagan is arching up off the bed as she comes with a long series of moans and curses, her hands fisted in Jess’ bedspread.

Jess wipes off her mouth with the back of her hand before kissing her, and Reagan groans into her mouth at the lingering taste of herself on Jess’ lips. They make out for a while, grinding their hips up into each other, Reagan’s thigh slotted between Jess’ to try and generate some pressure. 

Then Jess sits up and climbs up until she’s perched right above Reagan’s face. Reagan lets out a desperate whimper of approval as she slides her hands up Jess’ thighs. Jess grabs onto the headboard for balance as she slowly lowers herself down onto Reagan’s mouth, working up a slow swivel of her hips as Reagan eats her out until she comes. 

Afterwards they curl up underneath Jess’ pile of blankets, their bodies liked everywhere from their legs to their pinkies, warm, soft skin pressed tight together as they slowly drift towards sleep. Reagan traces her eyes over the gentle curves of Jess’ face, committing the moment to memory just in case this isn’t meant to last.

“I like you,” she whispers, a quiet confession that echoes in the empty room.

“I know,” Jess whispers back. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> check out my lesbian dumbass on [tumblr](http://actualbabe.tumblr.com/)


End file.
